


Breathe, relax, aim

by Annfan



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: F/M, Guns, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Sexual Tension, Shooting Guns, mexican honeymoon, referenced sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-16 13:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15437601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annfan/pseuds/Annfan
Summary: “I was a homeschooler from a religious family in Texas, Seth. Of course I know how to shoot a gun.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first work, hasn’t been proofread. I just had the muse and ran with it, so there might be some grammar mistakes.

It’s only 3 in the afternoon, but Seth is nursing a glass of whiskey as he eyes Kate, who is sitting on the grungy motel bed. She’s watching some stupid, overdramatic Mexican soap opera with subtitles, silently mouthing some of the Spanish words. “My Spanish teacher in high school had us watch these,” she had told him earlier, “it helps broaden your vocabulary.”

  
Seth doesn’t think he wants his vocabulary broadened if it means having to watch Carmelita’s, or whatever the god awful main characters name is, stupid escapades.

  
Kate’s eyes are focused intently on the screen, her pale legs stretched out on the bedspread. She’s wearing an old plain grey T-shirt of Seth’s and cutoff shorts Seth stole from a close line that are a little too short and inspiring feelings that he’s not entirely comfortable feeling in regards to an underaged girl.  
Seth might be a thief, a murderer, and a kidnapper, but he’s not a goddamn pedophile. A man’s gotta draw the line somewhere.

  
He thinks back to when he was a kid, Dad passed out drunk on the couch, and one of his good for nothing scumbag friend’s eyes following Seth across the kitchen. He remembers the man following him into the kitchen when he went to get a glass of water and cornering him up against the chipped counter and brushing his leathery, dirty hand across Seth’s face and saying “You’re a pretty kid, aren’t ya?”

  
Seth remembers trying to wiggle away and being old enough to know that this man was touching in him in a way that Ms. Campbell from 1st grade had called bad touching when she had asked him in a concerned voice about the bruises on his arms. He had passed them off as wrestling injuries from roughhousing with Richie and Ms. Campbell had seemed to accept that answer, but had told him that if anyone ever touched him in a bad way he should go to an adult. But then Ms. Campbell’s husband had been relocated to California and she moved. Now what adult was Seth gonna tell? Certainly not his wasted Father.

  
Thankfully Richie had showed up and snatched Seth away, spitting out “you dirty old man!” At the guy, and dragging Seth back to their room before locking the door and wrapping his bony arms around Seth’s shorter torso.

  
Now, even though Kate is at least 7 years older than he had been, Seth feels like a dirty old man and he doesn’t like it one bit.

  
He doesn’t realize that he has been staring at her for too long until she shifts, uncrossing her legs and huffing at him. “Could you stop lurking please? You’ve just been standing there for like 15 minutes.”

  
“Sorry Princess,” he responds in an equally sarcastic tone, “but there’s not a whole lotta space in this motel if you haven’t noticed, and it’s too damn hot to be outside.”

  
“Then sit down or something, geez.” She gripes.

  
He rolls his eyes and clunks his glass on the dresser before making his way to the rickety piece of furniture that passes for a dinning table.

  
He pulls out his shoddy excuse for a gun cleaning kit from a duffle bag and starts to clean his revolver because he has nothing better to do. Kate seems satisfied that he’s at least doing something other than staring and she returns her attention to the tv.

  
He can only make cleaning the handgun take so long though and once each chamber in the cylinder is undoubtedly spotless, his eyes wander back over to Kate.

  
Her delicate, pink, curved lips are wrapped around the edges of a glass bottle as she takes a swig of coke, which is the only thing the crappy mini fridge can actually seem to keep halfway cool. Kate places the coke on the bedside table and stretches her arms, grey shirt ridding up just enough so that Seth can see the slight curve of her lower abdomen and jut of her hipbone. She yawns and flexes her toes, toenails painted a bright fuchsia with nail polish she had stolen from a small bodega on a back street in chihuahua city.

  
Seth can still see her giddy grin at getting away with shoplifting such a small item. He feels a warmth spread across his whole body as he remembers how she looked up at him, eyes gleaming, like she was searching for approval. “Good job kiddo,” he had said, “your first big heist,” and she had giggled.  
Seth must have been staring for too long again because she looks up and arches a slender eyebrow before switching off the tv. “Seriously, what’s up with you?” She swings her bare legs around to the side of the bed facing him.

  
“Nothing,” he mutters “just going a little stir crazy I guess.”

  
“Hmm.” She nods like that’s a reasonable explanation and then moves towards him. Instead of going around his bed though (he always takes the bed closest to the door, just in case), she opts to crawl over it on her hands and knees, towards the table. The grey T-shirt dips down in the front just enough that he can see the top of her lacy cream colored bra, her cross necklace swinging in the dip between her breasts. Seth swallows, mouth suddenly dry. He can think of a lot more situations that he’d like to see her in that position.

  
She finally plops down on her butt and scoots up to the table, leaning forwards and examining his gun.

  
“You know I’ve been thinking,” he says slowly, “I should really show you how to shoot, just in case.” In case some dirty old perv like me tries to put his hands on you, he thinks, sourly.

  
She blinks. “I know how to shoot,” she sighs as if he is the most dense person in the world, and much to his irritation her facial expression reminds him of the looks his brainiac (now bloodsucking) brother used to give him when Seth just wasn’t getting something Richie had said.

  
“Really?” Seth eyes her up and down, still skeptical.

  
“I was a homeschooler from a religious family in Texas, Seth. Of course I know how to shoot a gun.” She actually rolls her fucking eyes at him this time. Typical fucking teenager.

  
“Oh, well excuse me Princess,” he mutters under his breath and she cuts him another look.

  
“I’ll have you know I competed in rifle for 5 years and was district rifle champ 4 years in a row.” Her smile is almost imperceptible but Seth can see the pride in her eyes.

  
“What happened the 5th year?” he jokes.

  
“Christy Valenzuela happened.” Her green eyes narrow as she hisses the other girl’s name. “She moved to the county next to me junior year. She never shot anything less than a 94 in competition. Her Daddy was rich and always bought her all the new equipment too, fancy shooting jackets and stands and even special shoes.”

  
“Wow.” Seth chuckles, “I didn’t even know that was a thing.”

  
“Yeah, I know right?” Kate smiles and then gets a faraway look in her eyes, the kind Seth knows she only gets in the few moments when she stops and thinks about her old life. “I think I could have beat her eventually,” she says almost wistfully. “My team even had a chance of going to state in Austin.”

  
Seth suddenly feels the sinking feeling of guilt in his stomach that he has become all too acostumed to feeling when Kate has that sad, lost look on her face.

“Sorry,” he manages to say, though somewhat gruffly. He thinks to himself that Kate should be shooting holes in little paper targets in Austin and not sitting across from a criminal who is suggesting teaching her how to put bullets in people’s heads.

  
She shrugs and says, “it’s okay,” in a tone that is much too mature and forgiving for her age. “It’s not actually your fault. I wouldn’t have gone anyway, with Dad hauling us off to Mexico. Besides, I don’t think I would have wanted to go without Mom there. She was always my biggest cheerleader.”  
Seth doesn’t know what to say to that so he just nods.

  
“Anyway,” Kate says abruptly, “maybe you actually could teach me some stuff. I’ve never shot a revolver. The only handgun I’ve shot was a Glock 17, I mostly stuck with rifle.”

  
Seth cracks a smile, “Sure thing, we’ll go out tomorrow.”

  
Kate actually glows at that, and for a second the uncomfortable feeling of guilt dissipates.

 

 

The next morning Seth gets up early and leaves the room before Kate wakes up, grabbing some cardboard from the ally behind the motel and drawing some circles on it with an almost dry sharpie to make a half-assed target. When he gets back Kate is halfway through getting dressed and he gets a glimpse of her pink striped cotton underwear through the slightly opened bathroom door as she pulls on her shorts. “Lemme brush my hair and I’ll be right out!” She calls out.  
“Okay!” He manages to choke out before he plops down on his bed and switches on the tv. The news comes on and he can’t understand a word they’re saying but he focuses on it intensely to try to push away the mental image of Kate wiggling into those damn shorts.

They stop at a small restaurant for breakfast and Kate eagerly scarfs down a plate of huevos rancheros and chugs a cup of coffee. Seth is happy to see her eat, for weeks after the events at the twister she only picked at her food. Now she seems to actually have an appetite and there’s more bounce in her step than he’s ever seen before.

  
After breakfast they drive out to the middle of the desert and Seth parks the car off the road in a dry creek bed, where it can’t be seen from the highway, before they sneak over a fence on what is probably the edge of a large ranch. They walk down the creek bed a ways until Seth finds an embankment that he is satisfied will work as a backstop and he props up the makeshift target with a few rocks.

  
The sun is barely over the horizon but it’s already starting to get hot and as he walks back over to Kate she is pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail to get it off her neck. She has already stuffed the tissue paper Seth brought from the motel into her ears. It’s definitely not up to par as far as hearing protection goes and he makes a mental note to pick up some actual earplugs next time he sees a hardware store.

  
Seth tosses her a box of ammo and she fumbles slightly, but catches it. He pulls the revolver out of his waistband and swings open the cylinder.

  
Kate gives him an expectant look and he realizes suddenly that he doesn’t have the slightest clue how to be a good shooting instructor.

  
“Okay kiddo,” he hands her the revolver after she opens the box of ammo and sets it down on a large rock “I’ve not taught a whole lot of underage girls how to shoot guns before so you’ll have to cut me some slack if I gloss over some stuff.”

  
“I’m not,” she interrupts. “Legally speaking, I’m not actually underaged. At least not for sex.” Seth’s stomach does a flip flop at the word sex. “The age of consent in Texas is 17,” she continues. For a second he wonders why the hell she even knows that.

  
“Well we aren’t in Texas.” Seth blurts out a lot more harshly than he intended.

  
“It’s 16 in a lot of Mexican states,” she fires back and Seth sees the same mischievous twinkle in her eye as when she stole that nail polish.

  
“Jesus Christ.” He mutters under his breathe.

  
“Don’t take the lord’s name in vain.” She scolds, already loading rounds into the revolver.

  
Seth’s brain isn’t even working well enough for him to formulate a quip in response.

  
“Okay, well I’m sure you already know to always keep it pointed towards the target,” he finally says when she finishes loading the gun.

  
“Yes, Seth.” She says snarkily, “always keep a gun pointed down and downrange, never point it at anything you aren’t ready to shoot, keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to fire,” She lists off the basic rules of gun saftey, “no offense intended but I think I’m better versed on range saftey than you, Mr. I’m going to wave my gun around like it’s an acting prop.”

  
Seth gets the distinct impression that offense was absolutely intended, but the girl has a point. He’s not exactly the best role model for the proper handling and use of a firearm.

  
“Okay,” He interrupts her little tirade. “So what’s the highest caliber you’ve ever shot?”

  
“I’ve mostly just shot .22,” she blushes.

  
“Okay, well this one shoots .45, it’s gonna have a lot more recoil than you are used to.”

  
Her brow creases and she has a determined look on her face. “It’s okay, I can take it,” she says earnestly.

  
As soon as he hears those words Seth immediately tries to keep his mind from going to the gutter.

  
“Alrighty!” He says quickly, stepping behind her, “gun up, princess.”

  
She lifts the revolver up with both hands and he slides his arms around hers, gently readjusting your grip.

  
“Here, put your thumb like this,” he moves the thumb on her left hand so it rests on the thumb on her right hand. As he does that his chest brushes up against her back and he might be imagining it, but he swears her breath hitches just a little.

  
“Make your stance a little bit wider too,” he instructs, and slips his leg in between hers, knudging her thigh with his knee.  
Her breathe definitely hitches this time, and he carefully inspects her face for any sign of discomfort but instead he just sees a slight smile.

  
Seth smirks a little, and let’s his hand graze over her hip as he returns his arms to hers. “I’m just gonna hold you for this first shot, that okay?”

  
They both know what he’s really asking is if it’s okay for him to touch her like this.  
Seth still feels a little bit like a dirty old man but the feeling fades even more when she practically moans out, “yeah, that’s fine.”

  
He guides his hand over hers and helps her cock the hammer. “Okay, now breathe and squeeze the trigger straight back.”

  
“BRASS,” she says, “breathe, relax, aim, squeeze, shoot. I know trigger control.”

  
“Good job,” he says, even though he’s never heard the acronym in his life. Neither his father or uncle Eddie were that formal in their firearms instruction.

  
She lines up the sights, a look of calm concentration on her face, and then she pulls the trigger. He’s there to hold her arms steady when the gun kicks up a little and she stumbles back into his arms.

  
“Whoa,” She giggles. “That is stronger. Fun though.” She smiles up at him impishly, but still keeps the gun pointed down range.

  
He squints at the bullet hole in the target. Not quite in the circle, but still on the cardboard. “Not bad for a first shot.”  
Kate holds the gun back again, “can I shoot again?”

  
“Of course princess,” he says and this time he lets her fire it herself, just putting his hands on her hips to help brace her.

  
Several shots later Kate is hitting the circle and absolutely beaming. Finally, after reloading a few times she hits dead center.

  
She hands the gun back to Seth and skips down range and cheers. He follows her and gives her a high five. “Good girl,” he congratulates her.

  
She blushes to the tips of her ears and he raises an eyebrow.

  
He leans forward and brushes a strand of hair out of her face, deciding to test the waters. “You like that princess, you like me calling you a good girl?”

  
“Yeah,” she breathes out, looking at the ground and kicking at the sand with her boot.

  
Seth takes the opportunity to slip his hand under her chin and tilt her face up so she is forced to meet his eyes. Her pupils dilate and she leans towards him ever so slightly.

  
“What do you say we get out of here kiddo?” He says, “have you had enough target practice for the day?”

  
Kate nods violently and Seth lets out a sigh of relief. He finally has the confirmation he needs. “Let’s go.” She says and he can’t get back to the car quick enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seth is a bad man. He doesn’t have any pretenses that he’s not. But as far as Seth is concerned there’s bad men, and then there’s BAD men. BAD men are the kind that kiss 17 year old girls in cars on secluded roads in the Mexican desert, and Seth is not that kind of man.

Seth follows Kate back the car, tucking away the gun, and tries really hard not to look at her ass as she clambers back into the passenger’s seat.

  
“That was so fun!” She says, practically bouncing in her seat as he puts in the car in drive.

  
She stills and leans towards him, taking his hand with her small, slender one and squeezing it gently, “thanks, Seth.”

  
He squeezes it back quickly and then drops her hand like it’s burning him and says “sure thing, kid.”

  
Kate shifts back to her side of the car, looking slightly hurt.

  
Goddamnit, Seth thinks. She pouts those little bow shaped lips of hers and Seth has the overwhelming urge to reach over and press his own lips to them, but he restrains himself.

  
Seth is a bad man. He doesn’t have any pretenses that he’s not. But as far as Seth is concerned there’s bad men, and then there’s BAD men. BAD men are the kind that kiss 17 year old girls in cars on secluded roads in the Mexican desert, and Seth is not that kind of man. Not even if said 17 year old girl likes him too, because who is he kidding, that doesn’t make it any less fucked up. She’s still a kid. A high schooler. Well she should be, would still be a high schooler if Seth hadn’t gone and abducted her and gotten her whole family killed.

  
Kate spends the rest of the car ride back to the motel rambling on about rifle team and the different small towns in Texas she had gone for competition. He notices she carefully omits any mention of her family at any of these competitions, just talking about friends, teammates, and coaches. He knows the loss of her family is still a raw, open, festering wound, just how Richie’s absence is for him. It hurts, and not talking about it won’t make it hurt any less, but it’s all either of them know to do.

  
They pass a drink stand on the way back into town and Kate begs him to stop. Because he apparently can’t say no to anything the kid asks he grudgingly pulls over. Of course he is the one to get out in the scorching heat and order her horchata while she smiles at him from the comfort of the air conditioned car. He climbs back in and shoves the drink over to her with a grunt and she beams, sipping on the Agua Fresca the whole way back.

  
When they get to the hotel Seth unconsciously starts to make his way to the mini fridge for a cold beer even though it can’t be past eleven in the morning. He’s stopped, however, by a delicate hand on his forearm.

  
“Aren’t you going to show me how to clean it?” Kate is standing there expectantly, arms folded. “Regular cleaning is essential to a reliable and well-functioning gun,” She says like she is reading from a gun owners handbook.

  
Seth coughs. “Uh, yeah. Of course.”

  
There’s only one chair for the crappy table so Seth sits on the edge of his bed and lays the gun down on the table.

  
“Alright, so what’s the first thing you do before cleaning a gun?” He asks.

  
“Make sure it’s clear so you don’t blow your own brains out,” Kate states.

  
Well that was a lot more graphic than Seth was expecting but it’s correct. “Yep, exactly.” He hands the gun over to Kate.

“Check and clear it,” he instructs.

  
She points it in a safe direction at a non-functioning lamp in the corner and thumbs open the cylinder. “Yep, it’s empty!” She announces.

  
“Good girl,” he says, just to see if it will get another rise of her, and it definitely does. Her cheeks turn pink again and her mouth curves up in a little shy smile.

  
“Okay,” Seth says, “this is a lot harder to strip than a Glock, so I’m going to show you how to do it first, alright? Normally you wouldn’t need to do this every time, but for the sake of education I’ll show you how.”

  
Kate nods, watching him attentively. He shows he how to use a small screwdriver to take off the grip panel and disengage the mainspring and remove the cylinder. Seth is so focused on explaining all the right steps that he doesn’t notice Kate has come around the table and is crouching on the bed beside him, peering over his shoulder, until he feels her hair brushing over his shoulder. He gulps, taking in the scent of the coconut shampoo she had taken from the last, slightly less crappy, motel.

  
Kate is carefully watching all of his motions, a look of concentration on her young face.

  
He carefully puts it the revolver back together, and dry fires it a few times before announcing “okay, your turn.”

  
Seth expects her to go back to her seat on the other side of the table but instead she just sits down on the bed next to him, leg pressing up against his as she scoots up to the table.

  
“That was complicated.” She sighs. “You might have to help me a little bit.”

  
“Of course, that’s what I’m here for.” Seth should scoot away, should put some distance between them. That would be the decent, respectable thing to do. Seth does not make the decision to be descent or respectable and lets her leg stay firmly in contact with his.

  
She grabs the screwdriver and starts working, disassembling the grip just like he showed her. She pulls back on the hammer and looks up at him, questioningly. “Is this right?” She asks, searching his eyes for approval.

  
He nods, “Yeah, princess, that’s perfect.”

  
Kate glances down and he suddenly realizes that his hand is resting on her bare knee, thumb stroking the skin there ever so slightly. He jerks back. What the fuck is he doing? 

  
She doesn’t look the slightest bit uncomfortable, instead she is just smiling coyly as she releases the hammer on the revolver and sets it down gently.

  
“Uh, you aren’t finished yet sweetheart.” Seth admonishes.

  
“Oh,” she pouts. “I know, but can we take a break?”

  
“Sure...yeah, sure.” He surveys her, sees her leaning in just a little.

  
“You’re a good teacher though,” Kate says. She leans in some more, that damn impish smile back on her face, “maybe you could teach me some other stuff?”

  
Holy shit. Is she asking what Seth thinks she’s asking? Screw it. Seth’s already a bad man, a bad man with very poor impulse control.

  
He slips his hand into her hair and tugs her to him gently, pressing his lips to hers firmly. She lets out a little gasp into his mouth and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Kate tastes like vanilla chapstick and horchata. He finally pulls back and she looks up at him, face full of innocent pleasure and he thinks she is the picture of wasted youth.

  
He shouldn’t want this, and neither should she. But it’s all they’ve got. And Seth will be damned if he’s not going to give her what she wants. He’s taken too much from this young girl, this young woman, already. He kisses her again and lets her melt into his arms and allows himself to let go of the guilt.


End file.
